


In My Time Of Need

by oneblacksheep



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angels, Cannibalism, Demons, Freeform, M/M, Other, dark themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 00:36:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1139366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneblacksheep/pseuds/oneblacksheep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are angels and there are demons, but there are also the outcasts, the fallen, the banished, the abandoned.</p>
<p>Not all angels are born in grace, love and beauty; some are mistakes. </p>
<p>Demon of the earth Hannibal meets abandoned angel Will, who hasn't grasped his full potential, yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_"A trail of sickness_

_Leading to me_

_If I am haunted_

_Then you will see"_

_-Opeth_

There are angels and there are demons, but there also are the outcasts, the fallen, the banished, the abandoned.

Not all angels are born in grace, love and beauty; some are mistakes. Hannibal Lecter was a mistake. His father; fallen and reigning in terror, took a starkly beautiful angel as his own, without knowing her, without earning her consent. Her body remained forever marked with his seed, up until the day she begged for death, conceiving her second child.

Mischa Lecter was far from a mistake. Though Hannibal's mother was damned with the marks of Satan himself, her heart still was pure; giving way to the birth of Hannibal's little sister.

Hannibal was neither a demon nor an angel, more so a thing that should not be. Hannibal was the reason for the slaughter and consumption of seven thousand angels, including his perfect baby sister. Hannibal was only six when he was damned to roam the earth for all of his days, never to die, never to rule in Heaven nor Hell.

His only stem of goodness was born from Mischa, nursed by his seamless mother. His only fallacy was born from his father, whom he never met, nursed diligently by his strive for perfection and destruction of the inconsiderate, the rude. 

Psychiatry was a convenient enough profession, he grew to become passionate about during all his years he had spent. His only side of rectitude could come out by helping patients, while his darkened nature could come out in dangerous mind games with his unsuspecting patients. Not all, no. He picked them special, though none of them held any place of significance or place of specialty anywhere as close as one Will Graham was slowly accomplishing. 

Just as Hannibal was an exception to the norms of the worlds unknown to humans, so was Will; abandoned, left to die.

His mind was a beautiful thing, but he would not be able to contain it, not by himself, and no one had wanted to bother to help the runt angel. He was the only child of a lower classed angel, he never knew his parents. Because of their low ranking, they were subjected to be taken at any time, which just so happened to be after Will was born. He was a runt, and he had never been able to use his wings, never been able to use his power, no matter how hard he tried. His mind, beautiful, but not well kept, which could be blamed on living in between worlds all his life, never good enough for a league of angels, never good enough to help. But he could still see and sense things humans couldn't, and it made his mind a sensitive thing. 

He managed to stay out of the way most of the time, but after an accident he was sent to the Council of Peace and Order; where he was voted to be sent to earth. They had already arranged for a job at the FBI academy, being a teacher. 

They gave Will one day, explaining to him his job, what the FBI was, and reminding him of the pact all angels were born into, regardless of circumstance to never reveal themselves to a human. 

It was all so much for the young angel, technically and adult in the human world, but just a child in the eyes of angels. He was granted immortality, but once he hit earth, his wings weak and never used , still enclosed in his skin, never breaking the surface, causing him to fall, hard on his back, unable to keep himself from getting hurt, he damaged his shoulders, permanently giving up on the hope he could ever use his wings; his curse, as it would turn out to be. 

Immortality may seem great, but with no end in sight, and no way to escape the piercing gazes, the broken hearts of humans, always being ignored, until a man called Jack Crawford entered his life, but it wasn't the kind of attention he wanted.

It was the first case he was called to work on, girls gone missing, no bodies found, when his fragile mind began to shatter. He had thought he would be more hurt about his situation, but life on earth seemed normal, yet he still felt foreign, not just because he was not of this earth.

-

The first day he spent in Jack Crawford's office, he met a man who introduced himself and Doctor Hannibal Lecter. The moment Will gathered the courage to meet his eyes, was the moment he felt something he had not felt on earth yet, something warm, comforting, but dangerous and exciting all the same lurched in his mind, grasping at what he thought was his heart, making its way to his stomach, making it feel weird. 

Angels never had problems like these, but Will Graham was no average Angel. 

Hannibal already knew who Will was, had been watching for a while, he saw what Will Graham could be, what he could become, and he wanted to guide him, wanted to help him see the majesty of his becoming. 

Demons were not supposed to get involved with humans or angels, Hannibal being the main reason, but because of that, he was no average demon or angel. He was a thing, kept alive enough to make it on his own, enough to know what he wanted. And he wanted the young angel for many reasons.

Will Graham would be his.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Events in the show don't appear in this is the same order or sequence

_"Exit light_  
Enter night  
Take my hand  
Off to Never Never Land" __  
-Metallica

__

__

____

"How do you see the world, Will?" The young man snorts in crude laughter. "How do  _you _see the world, Dr. Lecter?" Hannibal only gives a patient smile in the seat across form Will, then regards him in a serious manner, "Through ancient eyes." Will furrows his brows and looks at his unofficial psychiatrist with a sort of confusion that holds yet unleashed knowledge.__

'My little mongoose, so close, but so far. My precious angel.' Hannibal thinks as Will shakes off his answer.

"Now, tell me about your cannibal."

~ Will wasn't sure where he was, or why. It was dark, colder than the average winter night, but no snow, no scenery. Everything was dark, everything was slipping, no filling, with water. Water that felt terribly hot against his frozen skin, its pale shade turning a deathly blue, tightening, threatening to crack open even at the slightest touch.

He tried to breath, but only gasped water as it filled his lungs, he felt sheets of his being, his entire humanity slide off of him, all that was left was muscle, bone, tendons and ligaments. He felt sharp pain in each shoulder, extending to the middle of his back, he tried to turn his head to look, only to be greeted with wings of sharp pointed bone, no shining white or silver feathers, only a bone frame of what should have been there. He stretched his skinless arm behind him to touch the damned appendages, under his touch they immediately crumbled, into a fine dust, mixed with the water, floating away from him, his last hope of ever being normal drifting away, he tried to reach out, but his body of strung muscle snapped in odd places, suddenly the fibers came apart all around him, undoing him, unwinding him.

As the orbs of his eyes fell away, sinking to the bottom, he viewed his organs and bones come undone from their shell, floating away, his bones turning to mist. His eyes hit the bottom, of whatever this was, and burned to a close.

He felt, somehow felt, his soul flicker, flashes of an even darker darkness, then, nothing. Will Graham's thoughts ceased, his soul a dead mass of energy, chased the wind.

Hannibal received a call from Jack Crawford, asking if he had seen Will. Jack explained to him that they were working on another crime scene, their same cannibal. Jack told him about how Will seemed to fade in and out of awareness after giving Jack what he wanted to hear. Though Jack told him in other words to make himself look better. Jack told him that Will just walked off, he let him go because he figured he needed the space, but now it was 9:00 PM and the special agent's car was called in as being left at the scene. The older detective was wondering if Will could have caught a cab or bus to Baltimore, that being the place he'd probably go, assuming he wasn't at his home, due to the missed calls.

"No, I have not seen Will, but I will let you know if I hear from him." Hannibal began putting his coat and gloves on. "Alright, well, don't worry about it, I'm sure he'll turn up, probably at a bar or something." Hannibal gave a polite goodbye, ignoring Jack's instructions, alarmed at how little he seemed to care for Will. Bu then again, Hannibal was the only one who could care for Will, how he needed- deserved to be cared for.

Hannibal drove to Wolf Trap, it was nearly eleven when he followed a faint scent. It was a heated smell, sweet, but burning. As he neared the woods three miles from the crime scene, he knew something was wrong.

The scent his angel carried, was shaking, wavering. His sense of smell was not the only heightened sense he had, the nature of his being could feel and even see, if it was strong enough, auras. He felt Will's, and it was wobbling, going dim.

His eyes turned black, his pupils widening, leaving only the fiery rim of maroon to glow. He pulled his coat off, then his suit jacket, along with his waist coat. His muscles flexed as great wings tore out of the back of his shirt in an instant. Wings blacker than the night, shining an almost purple in the moonlight, the under wings an almost black blood red cut through the air violently as Hannibal flew faster than human's could ever dream through the dense woodlands.

As the flickering feeling of Will grew stronger he landed, dirt and leaves flying around him and the abrupt disruption of the earth. Small bubbles rose at the surface of the lake in front of him, a sharp intake of breath from Hannibal, as he felt the last remnants of Will's soul leave him.

No, no, this was not supposed to happen, Will Graham was supposed to be a part of him, the only way to save him...

The thing, Devil born, broken, alone, Hannibal, made his decision.

~ 

Tearing, a sharp twisting feeling. Burning, cold, hurting, euphoric, coming alive. Sensing, eyes closed, tongue stuck to a dry mouth, stomach empty, hurting. His olfactory senses were pleasantly invaded with a warm, lightly musky, spice-like scent. A tingling flowed jerkily through his body, two large tanned hands holding onto his. It took nearly an hour, but slowly, Will blinked his eyes open, the first thing he saw, Hannibal's face, calm, but focused.

"H-Hanni-H" Will tried to say his doctor's name, but his mouth was too dry. "Shh, shh, relax William." Hannibal's voice soothed. That's when Will saw it. His eyes opened wide, seeing two large forms in the darkness behind Hannibal, on Hannibal.

_Wings_

 

 

 

Hannibal knew Will saw them, knew it by the way his eyes blurred with confusion, the way his aura flickered in fear.

Hannibal knew he looked like a demon, granted he could be considered one, he hoped Will would see him through it, hoped Will would accept it. It wasn't supposed to happen this fast, but this was the only way to save a dying angel.

His withered heart fell, his soul crumpled, knowing Will would hate him. All the therapy sessions, all the friendly conversation, all the trust Will put into Hannibal, shattered by the fact of Hannibal's revealing. Hannibal cursed inwardly as Will shut his eyes tight, the demon assuming his...well, who could have been his, angel was trying to get Hannibal's image out of his head. Will had looked into Hannibal's eyes. 

Will had saw into him, his eyes vulnerable, showing more than they should have, because he needed to give a part of himself to Will. 

It would take at least two weeks for Hannibal to fully recover, he knew he'd have to spend them alone, he didn't want to, no, he wanted Will. But now it was all ruined. All thrown away. Maybe he was truly damned from every having...love.

 

When Will saw those wings, those great blackened wings, the realization hit him harder than he could handle. He looked to Hannibal's eyes, and he saw the soul that was in the man..no, the demon.

He shut his eyes tight, his empathy working quickly. Absorbing all the pain Hannibal had suffered, all the loneliness this man had been through. Absorbing the fact that they were not so different. 

Will also felt Hannibal's pain, not just from his past, but the pain born now. 

Partly from Hannibal believing he would never be with Will, which the young man suddenly shuddered at the realization, Hannibal...he, he cared...actually cared for him...even, even wanted to claim him, to have him, to... love him.

The other part of pain Will felt was the depletion of Hannibal's health as he held onto Will's hands, sending his energy and stamina to the young man. Hannibal was sacrificing for Will, even when he was sure Will would hate him. 

 

Hannibal finished the process, of bringing the angel back, Will still held his eyes shut tight. Hannibal sighed as he stood weakly off of the bed. It was Will's, the angel's house being the closest place to heal the man. 

He held his head down for a moment, then took a deep breath and without looking back, began to walk out of the bedroom, not wanting to have to face Will's rejection yet, and needing to get home, to lay down and rest, for at least two weeks, maybe more.

 

But Will was not a normal angel, and in Hannibal's weakened, vulnerable state, he ignored that there was always a small chance, no matter how unlikely, that Will would not react like an average angel. 

So he couldn't help but turn in shock when he felt a small light hand rest on his shoulder, reaching between his wings to halt him. 

Large blue eyes, watery and...caring? "You need to recover." Will stated in a small voice, practically a whisper.

Hannibal's mouth slightly fell open as a milky white hand lightly gripped his as walked him slowly back to the bed. The young angel guided Hannibal to lay down, the bed warmed by his revived body. It would take the recover period for Hannibal to be strong enough to retract his wings, but Will tried to make him as comfortable as possible anyways. Hannibal was falling into a hazy sleep, and fast. The normally composed, controlling man could not help his natural reaction. He had only ever tried this once more, but it did not bring Mischa back, and he did not have anyone then to take care of him. 

Just before he fell into the Five Days of Rest recover period, he remembered a feeling of elation wash over him, because the man he thought he'd never be able to have because of his...shame, was tucking him in with soft blankets, even giving a gentle pat to the top of the wings. 

Hannibal's dark soul made a small space for Will Graham, letting the young angel's light guide him through his recovery. 

*

Will took a long shower after he was sure Hannibal entered the sleep faze. He let the hot water wash over his rejuvenated body, clearing his mind, giving him time to think.

He could not abandon Hannibal, not after all the abandonment he had already felt, and, if he had to be honest with himself, he was selfish, he needed Hannibal, whether as his doctor, friend, or maybe something more, he needed the man...the demon, because he too had been abandoned. 

They were both fallen, forsaken. 

Will felt the danger in Hannibal's eyes, felt the darkness that would always be there.

But Will would never be the average angel, his own soul, pure, innocent, was pliant, and ready to embrace a new side, a place where he could belong, even if it was a darkness angels and demons alike would fear. 

As long as Hannibal would be with him, no matter what their relationship would be; doctor and patient, special agent and consultant, friends...lovers, or all four, as long as he would have an anchor, he knew he would follow, he may develop doubts, but he decided then and there, that he had seen too far into Hannibal to give up on him. 

He would be the angel Hannibal needed, he would be his.


End file.
